


I Never Thought I Could Let Those Feelings Show

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I've never asked you for anything.  I didn’t ask you for trust, respect, friendship, or anything else, Hotch.  You gave it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never Thought I Could Let Those Feelings Show

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://lizi0527.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lizi0527.livejournal.com/)**lizi0527** ’s prompt of **“I kissed your lips and broke your heart”**. The title comes from the Linda Ronstadt and Aaron Neville song, _All My Life_. This will be my last story of 2009…thank you guys so much for the hope, light, friendship, and conversation this year. So much of it stems from picking up a pen and writing these stories. Some days this was all I had, this pairing and you guys and words will never truly express my appreciation. Spoilers for Demonology.

The teakettle whistled and Emily walked into the kitchen to turn it off. She opened the cabinet beside her head and stared at the selection. She didn’t know why she was pretending to choose…it was a Lady Grey night for sure. Carly Simon played on her iHome but she wasn’t quite having the desired effect of soothing Emily’s harried nerves.

She didn’t know how long she’d stood outside of that church tonight but the cold cut through her thin coat and there was a deep chill in her bones. Her nose bleeding, her head hurting, Emily walked up the steps and put her hand on the handle. Churches were always open, she remembered that. Surely there was a priest in there ready to listen to whatever she had to say. The only problem was that he would think she wanted to hear what he had to say as well.

She didn’t; she couldn’t. So she turned and walked away. Having declined Rossi’s ride to wherever, Emily got into a cab and just went home. A part of her considered returning to Quantico…that was where she felt safe. She always knew what to do there, didn’t have to think too hard or second guess herself. Being an FBI Agent was like breathing for Emily Prentiss.

She didn’t want any trouble though. Hotch said he didn’t want to see her for the next few days. Even though he shook off whatever chains were holding him from pursuing Silvano and didn’t even consider taking her badge and gun for her blatant disregard of his direct order, Emily wasn’t in the mood to press her luck. It was Tuesday; she would just stay away for the rest of the week. Maybe she would run away but Emily hardly knew how to do that anymore.

For years, she’d managed some stability and suddenly the world was upside down again. She was back in that cold, uncertain place; she wanted to run for her life. Where would she even go? Emily went home for a long, hot shower. She put on her favorite winter pajamas, the teakettle, and some music. It hadn’t helped at all. She was still cold, scared, and exhausted.

She also couldn’t stop thinking about Matthew. She remembered the look on his face when she told him that she was pregnant; the look when she told him how she ended up that way. Emily never cried…she didn’t even cry at the clinic. She just reshuffled the boxes, closed the heavy doors, and moved on. Her rational side should've known she’d be back there eventually. You could only run so far before the demons wanted their day of reckoning.

Steeping her tea, Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘I think he died for me’. Those words wouldn’t stop running through her mind either. She would never have a chance to thank Matthew. She would never have a chance to help Matthew. He was the best friend Emily could’ve asked for in one of her darkest times and what had she done?

She got the hell out of Italy as fast as she could. She left the whole nightmare behind and that included Matthew. The sad part was that she had really left nothing. The events of that summer and fall stayed with her, like a scarlet **A** on her forehead. She gave them much more power than she ever gave the memory of Matthew’s friendship, love, and altruism.

The knock on the door brought Emily out of her pity party. She lived in a building where security announced people. Senators, CEOs, journalists, and their very important mistresses lived in the Watergate. Regular folks didn’t have the privilege of just knocking on doors. Taking the teabag from her mug, Emily didn’t want the tea to be too strong, she went to the door. As soon as she saw Aaron Hotchner through the peephole, Carly Simon began to sing _That’s the Way I Always Heard it Would Be_.

_My father sits at night with no lights on_  
His cigarette glows in the dark,  
The living room is still, I walk by no remark.  
I tiptoe past the master bedroom where  
My mother reads her magazines.  
I hear her call sweet dreams,  
But I forgot how to dream. 

She pulled open the door and they just looked at each other. She knew the look on Hotch’s face, it wasn’t pity, or even sympathy; it was empathy. Emily didn’t want to see it. She saw it when she told him about Matthew, when he offered her leeway. She saw it as he stood all the way across the room as if sadness was cooties and he didn’t want to catch it. She even saw it when he pulled her into his office and gave her the business. She was sick of it.

They didn’t speak; he didn’t even ask to come in. He just stood there. He looked at Emily and she looked at his spiffy shoes. Finally she just moved aside and he walked over the threshold. He came into the room a bit; Emily closed and locked the door. She walked by him into the kitchen. She wasn’t going to turn off her music like the last time he was there; she wouldn’t do anything like the last time he was there.

“Are you alright?” Hotch asked. “I know it’s a silly question, but…”

“Then why did you ask me?” Emily blew on her tea but still couldn’t look at him.

“Because I don’t think anyone else has today. Feel free to tell me if I'm wrong.”

“So you're here for your medal?”

“I'm sorry?” Hotch cocked his head slightly to the side.

“Nevermind,” Emily shook her head and held up her hand. The last thing that needed to happen was for her to get angry. She didn’t think she would be able to let it go and wasn’t sure if Hotch would take it or fight back harder. Whichever way it was going to go, she knew she didn’t have the strength. “I'm drinking tea, can I offer you some?”

“No. I…” He started toward her and Emily looked for a way out. She was already leaning against the counter so she couldn’t turn and run. She could slide to the left, the right was just more counter. “Prentiss…”

“Hotch, please,” Her voice cracked. “Aaron, stop.”

It was rare that she ever used his first name, in fact that may have been the first time she ever said it aloud in front of him. He swooped down on her, enclosing her in his tight embrace and Emily lost it. She let out a guttural moan, breaking down as she clutched his back. It was hard to breathe but she wasn’t sure if that was because of the sobbing or burying her face in Hotch’s dress shirt. He just held onto her, didn’t speak, not even the sweet whispers someone usually would when something like this happened.

All Emily could hear was her own anguish and his heartbeat. His heartbeat was as strong as his arms. Her knees buckled some but Hotch never let go. He just held her and eventually the wave of emotion passed. It left her drained and confused.

“Oh my God,” She still couldn’t move away from him; he would have to move away for that to happen. Emily covered her face with her hands but Hotch took her hands away. “Don’t…”

His touch was gentle as he took a paper towel and wiped her tears. Leaning close, Hotch placed a gentle kiss on her right cheek and then her left. When he kissed her lips, Emily didn’t fight him. It was soft, tentative, and almost childish. When his tongue pressed against her lips, Emily let him in.

The kiss turned passionate, deep, and needy. He pulled her body to his again, this time she felt something completely different. Hotch wasn’t soft anymore, he was hard. He was rock solid and Emily wanted to be crushed beneath the weight of him. She moaned into his mouth just as he pulled away. This time when she looked at him, she looked right into his hazel eyes.

“I was out of line.” Her Unit Chief stepped away, putting nearly a roomful of space between them. “I came here to…I was out of line.”

“You said that already.” Emily replied.

“It bears repeating.”

“Many things bear repeating, Hotch, that’s not one of them.”

“I'm going to go,” Hotch actually turned to walk away. “I needed to see that you were alright and um…”

“So you think I'm alright?” The contempt crept into her voice. Emily bit her lip to keep it in.

“What you're asking for, I cannot give you.” He couldn’t even look at her when he said it.

“I've never asked you for anything. I didn’t ask you for trust, respect, friendship, or anything else, Hotch. You gave it.”

“You fought for it.” He countered.

Emily smirked. It took everything in her not to haul off and throw a frying pan at his now-rumpled suit jacket.

“I'm tired of fighting. I don’t have the strength. Since no one is going to hold me up, I need everything I have left for myself.”

“I can't…” Hotch couldn’t finish, he was choking on those words. How many times was he going to do this? This was the first time they kissed but not the first time he tried to get close. Every time he did, the moments of bliss would turn into self-doubt. He was her boss, and honestly that was the simplest answer. The real fear was that he was broken. He was dark, sad, beat down, and Emily was a beacon. He had no right to dim that light in an attempt to bring himself back to life. “Goodnight, Prentiss.”

“I hope you can see yourself out, Hotch. Don’t ever come back here again. I didn’t invite you and don’t want you here.”

The words stung like a gunshot. This time he wasn’t wearing his Kevlar and it pierced his gut before traveling upward and hitting his heart. Still, he straightened his shoulders and walked out of the kitchen and the condo. When Emily heard the soft click of the door, she closed her eyes. No more tears, he was not going to get his tears. Tonight was not about Aaron Hotchner, it was about Matthew Benton.

It was about one of the few people who hadn’t run out on Emily. Of course look where staying got him. Maybe Hotch was smart to run while the getting was good. She was poisonous, that’s what Mrs. Benton told her more than once. She was a pretty little pill with dire consequences; no better than the drugs her son let destroy him. Emily Prentiss had been his first and he spent the rest of his sad life chasing the high she gave him.

She did her best to shake those thoughts from her head. Andrea Benton was wrong about her, just as so many others had she judged before she even knew Emily. Hotch had done the same…it was a miracle they had any kind of relationship considering how they started. The fact that it was turning into something with the potential to be deeper than friendship, no matter how much they fought it, still boggled her mind. But she was going to shake those thoughts from her head as well.

Hotch was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t because she told him not to and now he didn’t need to look for an excuse to stay away. He wasn’t because all the things that scared her scared him, times 100. He wasn’t because he was her straitlaced Unit Chief and she was the subordinate that some still believed would do anything to be accepted. He wasn’t because Emily Prentiss didn’t get happy endings. She just got endings.

Testing the tea with her tongue, Emily was not happy to taste it was lukewarm. Microwaving tea was sinful, almost as bad as pouring it out. She did the latter anyway, and turned the fire back on under the kettle. She cleaned up the mess and tried to open the door and let Carly Simon in. She was going to have to do something to stop feeling like this.

_Take a look around now_  
Change the direction  
Adjust the tuning  
Add a new translation  
Don’t look at your man in the same old way  
Take a new picture  
Just because you don’t see shooting stars  
Doesn’t mean it isn’t perfect  
Can't you see…? 

OK, that wasn’t going to work. Making a second cup of tea, Emily took the remote control and turned off the music. Carly was going to send her on a tailspin of depression. Maybe there was something good on television. She curled up on her couch and turned tried her luck with cable. She didn’t even know, nor care, what time it was. Sleep was not going to come tonight. George came up, putting two paws on the couch.

“C'mere sweetie, we’ll cuddle together.”

He didn’t need to hear another word. He hopped up and curled beside his owner. She was sad; he would do his best to make her feel better. Emily flipped channels for a little while, settling on Turner Classic Movies. It looked as if _The Thin Man_ had just started; Dorothy Wynant and her fiancée were in the hotel bar with Nick Charles. Maybe her evening could perk up after all.

No one was more surprised than Emily when there was another knock on her door during the Christmas party scene. She’d been lying on the couch smiling as she recited practically the whole movie from memory. Slowly, the black clouds were starting to dissipate and Emily was almost back to someplace she could recognize. Sighing, she got up and went over to the door. When she saw who it was, she sighed again.

“You don’t take directions well, do you?” She asked, opening the door.

“Actually, I take them quite well…that’s much of the problem.”

“I asked you not to come back here, Hotch.”

“I respectfully disobeyed your orders.” He replied.

“I think there was enough of that to go around today. You can't just…”

“Don’t make me leave, Emily. I don't want to be anywhere else.”

Emily bit her lip as she looked at him. His face was so sincere, open; he looked just like Hotch but also like a man she’d never quite seen before. She surely wasn’t in the mood to fight and she was missing one of her favorite scenes.

“I'm missing my movie.” She told him.

“What are you watching?” Hotch kept his smile to himself when she relented and let him in.

“ _The Thin Man_ ,”

“That’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s the party scene, when Nora is wearing the amazing dress and Nick drinks her rye.”

“I know it by heart.”

“Do you really?” Emily smiled.

“I do.” Hotch nodded.

“I can put you to the test, you know. I'm not just going to take you at your word.”

“That’s very smart of you, Emily. Test me…I think I'm ready.”

“Come in and sit down.” She said. “I’ll pull out the DVDs; we’ve probably missed most of the good stuff already.”

Hotch sat down on her couch, surprised when a cat crawled over and introduced himself. He petted him as he got out of his suit jacket. He must have been a new addition; Hotch didn’t remember him from the last time he showed up unannounced.

“I think the good stuff is definitely still to come.” He told her. “At least I hope so. You can tell me if I'm wrong; you’ve done a good job of that in the past.”

“All I have to tell you is that I'm Nick and you're Nora.”

“I can live with that.” Hotch smiled.

Slipping the DVD in, Emily sat back on the couch. She smiled too and it grew when Hotch slipped his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her close, sighing as he nuzzled her hair. There was time to make plenty of mistakes, which Hotch was sure he would. For tonight he would just stick to the script…it wasn’t a classic for nothing.

***

  



End file.
